Son of Sauron Part III: The Seasons Past
by Mandy Kay Miller
Summary: Zerameth, the daughter of Arwen and Aragorn, is torn between who she thinks she loves and who she wants to love. But maybe the choice isn't even hers to make. Maybe it never was...
1. Failure

A/N: Hey! Here's yet another sequel, but this doesn't have much to do with Syrus or anything… mostly about Aragorn and Arwen and Legolas and Gwilith's kids. You really don't need to read the other to in order to understand this, all you really need to know is that Yrinvan is an orphan who was kind of "adopted" by Aragorn and Arwen. He died in the Salerna Laut, which is the time span when the company left Mirkwood to when they separated, half going back to Mirkwood, half to Gondor. It'll be good I hope. They have lots of issues with Yrinvan's death, and Zerameth and Laesien are engaged and… yeah, stuff like that. So it'll be good.

Son of Sauron Part III: The Seasons Past

Addrynnyn looked nervously to the boy on his left, then turned his concentration back to the target in front of him. He couldn't loose his focus. He couldn't afford to loose this archery competition.

A bead of sweat dropped from his brow as he intensely concentrated on the center of the target. Then, as best he could, the boy let go of the arrow and it flew straight forward… and missed the center of the target by no less than 6 inches.

The prince of Eriador threw his bow down to the ground in disgust as the judge announced his score. He didn't have much hope of winning anymore, not unless some miracle happened. But it would have to happen soon.

Legil-Galad, an elf and Addrynnyn's current competitor, smirked at Addrynnyn. But then, he couldn't take his assumed win as much, for since he was an elf he had better eyesight than the human prince and therefore also possessed a natural advantage. But just as well, he was an arrogant boy and smiled just the same in the face of the one who he was sure had lost to him.

"You have not won yet," Addrynnyn told him. "I suggest you don't begin to celebrate until you are sure."

"I was sure when I received the invitation," he replied. "You should have known that a mere mortal could never compete with an Elf."

Addrynnyn normally would have responded, but he felt that he could say nothing in return. Elves seemed superior to Men so many times that he was beginning to believe it himself, so he had no points to argue. But he was not the kind of boy who willingly took insults from others, so he tried to think of something to reply. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

"Your pride is your weakness, and that of all the Elven race," Addrynnyn tried, coming as close to an insult as he could.

"Your archery skills is yours," Legil-Galad replied, still smiling. Then, noticing that the targets had been moved back for the last time, he took an arrow out of his quiver and took aim. He shot it off, and missed the dead center of the target but still hit the center area. It was announced that he'd received a score that read 9/10.

Addrynnyn had by now given up all hope of winning this competition. He wanted so bad to beat an elf, just once, but it appeared as though he needed to train harder for next year. But he still had one more shot to take, so he pulled out his arrow and took aim, then fired it off much like the other one, and his score was announced 7/10. Legil-Galad had won.

"Maybe next year," the elf told him mockingly. "Sorry, mortal." Then he walked away to receive his trophy.

Addrynnyn looked to the ground in shame. He'd lost once again. He was possibly one of the greatest Man archers of his age group, but he couldn't compete with the elves, which were the only beings he competed with. He found competing with Men boring, for it seemed so easy for him to win. He enjoyed a challenge, which was why he was so focused on beating an elf. But it had never happened.

Zerameth stepped up to her betrothed and placed a smooth hand upon his shoulder. "Men were not meant to beat Elves," she told him quietly. He turned to look at her.

"Maybe not, but I plan to change everything. Do you think it can be done?"

"Elves excel at archery," Zerameth replied, trying her best to dodge the question. "Maybe you'd have a better chance at swords play."

"But the exact _reason_ that I chose archery is because it is not generally Man's specialty. I plan to beat them at their own sport, don't you see?"

Zerameth shook her head. "Yes, but I stand by my statement. But you are too stubborn to see my point of view, so I suppose it does not matter. Come inside, my mother and father wish to talk about the wedding."

Addrynnyn nodded and walked with her inside of his home in Eriador. They went into a room that held Lord Aragorn and Lady Arwen, along with Addrynnyn's parents, Lord Carurcyn and Lady Norethiel. The four of them looked at the couple when they entered.

"How did you do?" Lord Carurcyn asked his son.

"I lost again," Addrynnyn replied. "But by less. I am making progress."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"When do you wish to have the wedding?" Lady Norethiel asked them. "We were thinking of the summer that Zerameth turns 20."

"Next year?" Zerameth asked. She nodded.

"Yes, what do you think?"

"I would love to get married in the summer."

Arwen smiled. "That is good to hear. And Laesien can get married the year after that, to the Prince of Rhûn."

"Oh," Lady Norethiel said, sounding pleasant. "Addrynnyn knows him. Addrynnyn, you remember Prince Tellyn, do you not?"

Her son nodded, remembering bitter memories. He'd always hated that boy. "Yes, mother, I do," he replied, not bothering to add how much he detested him.

" 'Tis an exciting boy," Norethiel stated. "Full of spirit."

Arwen smiled. "Yes, he is. And very mischievous. He reminds me of an old friend."

Aragorn smiled, too, because he had an idea of who she was thinking of. It was most likely Legolas when they were children, hundreds of years before he'd even been born. Arwen had told him stories of the situations her and Legolas had gotten into, the things which usually resulting in punishment, but sometimes not. He knew they were fond memories to her because of the twinkle in her eye that was always there when she told him about them, and the same twinkle was there now as well. She'd truly loved Legolas, but maybe more as a brother than anything else. Aragorn knew that she'd never loved Legolas as she loved him, so he had nothing to fear from the handsome elf. No, it was a different kind of love that she felt for Legolas, but it was love, just the same.


	2. The Deal

            "Are you to ever come with me to Rhûn with me?" Prince Tellyn asked his lovely betrothed.

            "I certainly hope not," Laesien mumbled, not looking away from her book.

            "It shall be your kingdom.  I think that it would be best if you knew what it looked like, at least.  Perhaps we can arrange something-"

            "There will be no arranging," Laesien replied firmly as she turned the cream-colored page.  Yet, though she spoke with power, her words kept their even and apathetic value, the kind she always used when focusing her words on her betrothed.  The boy was insufferable, and it was a wonder that she had not yet gone insane from having to keep him company.  In the past, the lovely girl would vent to her older sister in order to deal with speaking to her prince, but more recently she discovered that the best way to face him was to simply not care.  Luckily, not caring was something that she did best.

            "What of the arranging of our marriage, hmm?"  Tellyn was rather excited at the idea of marrying the daughter of Aragorn and Arwen, and he always had been since the moment he saw her.  Her beauty was no secret to anyone that passed her.  Her sister Zerameth had a sort of hard beauty… it was hard to describe, but it was there.  It was sort of like the beauty of rushing rapids: beautiful and dangerous.  Laesien, however, was a more simple, innocent sort of beauty.  She was softer, and not as outspoken.  That was what Tellyn loved about her.  He could not deny Zerameth's fair features, but he always felt that he received the better of the two sisters.

            "You may leave now," Laesien told him.

            "I do not think that would be a good idea.  What would your parents have to say?  And honestly, you are not very entertaining, sitting there all day reading your books."

            "Royalty shall never begin a sentence with "and" or "but," " Laesien stated, repeating a lesson taught to her long ago.

            "I am the man, I will tell you what royalty does," Tellyn replied hotly.  "I-"

            "A king should never raise his voice to his queen.  Besides, Prince Tellyn, you are not a man, but a boy."

            "Nor am I a king nor you my queen."

            "We may as well start practicing.  It seems as if I am doomed to you."  Laesien closed her book on her finger to keep her place and stood.  She started to the door, and Tellyn walked after her.  "Good gracious," she breathed with a sigh as her hands pulled on the handle of the door.  "Must you follow me?"

            "What do you mean "doomed?" "

            "I mean precisely what I said, good prince.  Doomed: destiny or fate; hence, ruin; death."  Laesien was glad to announce the meaning of the word.

            "I don't appreciate-"

            "You are to never use contractions around me.  My mother is very strict at how Men are to speak."

            "What does your mother say of interrupting people, for that is the second time you have done so in the past two minutes?"

            Laesien held her head up and turned down the hall.  "Those that I do not care to hear shall not be heard."

            Tellyn sighed and followed her.  Though a beauty, Laesien could be quite a snobbish girl when she felt as if she wanted to be so.  He had vowed to change her the moment he found that out, which was about two years ago, starting the moment they were wed.

            "And _where exactly are you going to now?" Tellyn asked her._

            Laesien cleared her throat to point out his error at the beginning of his question, but did not bother to point it out in words.  She replied, though stiffly, with the words, "I am hungry.  That, and I should also not mind finding out how Prince Addrynnyn performed this afternoon at his contest."

            "Is he staying until next month?" Tellyn asked.  He had thought that he heard something of that sort.

            "Mirkwood is arriving in three days, and they will be competing two days after they arrive.  After that, he is to return to Eriador."

            "Mirkwood… which of the elves will be going against him."

            "Prince Ohtar, among other citizens there," Laesien answered.  She knew that Zerameth would be excited to see Ohtar again, for they had not seen him since the Salerna Laut; that horrible war in which so many people who were close to them had vanished.  Zerameth still missed Yrinvan, Laesien knew, because she talked about him from time to time.  Had he lived, she may have married him.  Otherwise, perhaps she would have chosen to marry Ohtar, and perhaps her parents and his parents would allow it.  Arwen and Aragorn would have been more understanding, for they were a mortal/elven couple, but Legolas and Gwilith, Ohtar's own parents, would have been harder to persuade.  Zerameth, a mortal, and Ohtar, an elf, would have had quite the hard time, should they have ended up together.  However, they had loved each other.

            "You are hiding something," Tellyn observed by the expression on Laesien's face.

            "Of course not," she replied.  "Why would you think such a thing?"

            "You like this Prince of Mirkwood, perhaps?" Tellyn pressed.

            Laesien laughed.  "Oh, no, not me."  Then, after her words, her smile disappeared and she looked at Tellyn in alarm.  "I mean… that- that is not what I meant."

            "Zerameth?" Tellyn demanded.

            "No!"

            "She seemed so happy with Addrynnyn.  I never thought that she would be in love with someone else…"

            "Tellyn, listen to me, you can_not speak of this to anyone," Laesien told him.  Her usual apathetic tone was totally dissolved, and now she spoke with panic and worry.  "She _does_ love Addrynnyn, she truly does, and he loves her.  If you dared to tell anyone, it could destroy any relationship that they have together.  You cannot, under any circumstance, say anything to anyone.  Do you understand?"_

            " 'Tis not a big deal," Tellyn told her.  "Many people have other loves than their betrothed."

            "Tellyn!  Please, you mustn't.  It is not about destroying them getting married, but about destroying their marriage in itself.  He would never forgive her, and they would be bitter together forever.  Please."

            "What of this orphan boy?"

            Laesien's eyes grew yet again.  He was, no doubt, speaking of Yrinvan.  The surprising thing was that he knew about him at all.  Yrinvan had been a sort of secret between Laesien and Zerameth, and few other people knew of him.  Aragorn and Arwen did, but they never spoke of him.  Some of the servants knew of him, but they, also, never said anything.  What's more, how did Tellyn not only know of Yrinvan, but have a suspicion that Zerameth had loved him as well?

            "What do you know of him?" she demanded.

            "He was in the Salerna Laut, though that is about the extent of my knowledge.  Why, have you something to say of him?"

            "You think that I would tell you more than you already know, you snake?!" his firey maiden snapped.  "You already know too much.  Now, you must not say anything, agreed?"

            "What shall you tell me for my silence?"

            Laesien glared at him.  She would not speak of Yrinvan, no matter what the consequence.  The less he was remembered, the less pain everyone would have to go through.  They had all loved the boy on some scale, though for her she loved him more as a brother than anything else.  Maybe that was why she always wanted Zerameth to marry him… because she thought that he would make a fine brother.  In any case, she would tell Tellyn nothing of him.

            "Nothing.  Say what you wish, but we have no deal."  Laesien turned to continue walking, but Tellyn grabbed her arm.

            "Respect," he said.  "You pay me respect for my silence.  Is that fair?"

            "Do not think that for a moment you have me fooled," Laesien told him.  "What kind of respect."

            "The kind that fiancés are to have for each other.  That means kisses occasionally, and pleasant tones, and more than a glance from you.  Agreed?"

            Tellyn had been trying to kiss her since the moment they met, and she now thought _I should have known it would come back to this._  No matter what he or she thought, however, she could not let him ruin Addrynnyn and Zerameth's relationship, for they were close.  Much closer than she was to Tellyn, anyway, and she wanted her sister to have a good marriage.  She had one thought, that you could not have a good marriage without honesty, and so Addrynnyn should know about Ohtar anyway, but then she told herself that it was much better if Zerameth told him herself than Tellyn.  So, she still needed his silence, which was currently being offered.

            "You shall only put your lips to my cheek, do you understand?" Laesien said, now talking down on him once again, as she had come into the habit of doing.  Tellyn nodded.  "Also, the moment that I suspect you have said anything, the deal is dropped."

            "Should you fail to cooperate with me, then I _will_ mention something to the prince," Tellyn replied.  "It works both ways."

            Laesien nodded.  "Agreed.  You must give me a chance, though.  If I am doing something wrong you are to tell me, and if I refuse, then and only then are you clear to speak.  If you tell me something and I consent, then you have no reason to speak."

            Tellyn nodded.  "I wonder what your sister shall say when she finds out of this agreement."

            "She shall never find out," Laesien continued.  "No one ever shall.  The moment that she tells Prince Addrynnyn of him is the moment that our pact ends, and we are each free to do as we please."

            Tellyn nodded.  "All right."  


	3. Change

            Zerameth was dreadfully bored as she sat across from Lady Northiel sipping herbal tea and listening to the adults' talk.  Her and Addrynnyn exchanged glances and she suppressed a smile, then she looked back to his mother who was speaking.  They were, of course, speaking of politics once again, which were an incredible bore on both of the young mortals.  After she had put up with it for fifteen more minutes, Zerameth finally looked to her mother when all was silent, and said somewhat quietly, "May I be excused, mother?"

            Arwen nodded.  "Go on."

            Addrynnyn stood.  "I shall escort you, my lady."

            Zerameth smiled, because she knew that he was as excited to get out of the room as she was.  She wondered what would have happened had she refused his service.  Of course, Zerameth was not that cruel to do that to her betrothed, but if she had… _He probably would not speak to me for a year,_ she concluded to herself.

            "We will see you at dinner, then," Lady Northiel stated.

            Zerameth nodded politely.  "Yes, you shall."  She took Addrynnyn's offered arm and they walked out of the room, and once the door was closed she let go of it and laughed.  He joined her.

            "Escort me?!" she demanded of him.  " 'Tis my kingdom!"

            "What was I _supposed_ to say?" the prince asked.  "I needed to get out of there as much as you did!"

            "Well, I suppose, but you cannot deny that that was a horrible excuse."

            "You know, you could have given me some warning.  It was such short notice that I did not know what to say.  What would you have done?"

            "I would not have been the second person to leave."

            "Well, then, what now?"

            Zerameth smiled.  "You know what now, Addrynnyn."  She ran off ahead of him, towards the doors that lead outside.  He followed her outside and then into a shed, where the weapons were all stored.

            "You are to combat in a dress?" Addrynnyn asked.  "What would your mother say?"

            "My mother did many things in a dress," Zerameth replied, drawing her favorite sword, Naymet.  She had fought a great many battles with Naymet, all of them simply practice and no more.  She was never allowed to fight for real, of course, but her and Yrinvan were very competitive back when he'd been alive, and she defeated him many times – and bore many defeats – holding this exact sword.  "She rescued Fr-"

            "Frodo Baggins himself in a dress," Addrynnyn put in.  "Yes, I know.  Without her, the War of the Ring should have failed, for it was she that brought Frodo to Rivendell, where there Lord Elrond Halfelven healed him so that he was able to continue.  I know, I know."  (A/N: This story in general is not necessarily based on the movie only, but I will use that bit since it fits with their conversation.)

            Zerameth smiled.  "Choose a sword."

            "They all look the same."

            "Would you like me to select one for you?"

            Addrynnyn shook his head and approached one of them that didn't particularly stand out.  He gazed at it for a bit, then took it off the wall.  "This one will do nicely."

            "You do not want an elven sword?  They are lighter, and sharper."

            "I do not care about sharpness, and neither should you at the moment," Addrynnyn replied.  "As for weight, training with burdensome swords will make fighting with lighter ones that much easier."

            "All right.  Come, now."  Zerameth walked outside and Addrynnyn tailed behind.  Once there, they began to fight.  Addrynnyn did well, but Zerameth defeated him once again.  He rarely won sword battles with his betrothed, for his main specialty was archery.  Likewise, she had never beaten him in an archery competition.

            " 'Tis a wonder to myself why I let you beat me time and time again," Addrynnyn said as he backed away from the tip of her sword.

            Zerameth smiled.  "Of course, I am sure that is why you loose so often."

            "It has to do with self-image and confidence," Addrynnyn told her conversationally.  Zerameth let out a burst of laughter.

            "Oh, is that it?" she asked through a smile.  "You take me for an insecure servant girl, hmm?  We shall see."  She held up her sword.  "Again, good Addrynnyn?"

            The boy sighed.  "Must we?"

            "What is this whiney tone in your voice?  You remind me of an old friend."  Yrinvan had often whined whenever she proposed a fight.

            "Well, I can only take so much defeat in a day.  Especially by the one I love."

            When Addrynnyn said it that way, it sounded so much more righteous.  Zerameth put down her sword and started back to the shed.  "Do you remember when we fought all afternoon?" she asked him.  Though she was half-complaining, she did not take on a tone of that sort, but it was rather more conversational.

            "I do, my lady, but that was a long time ago."

            " 'Twas not."  Zerameth laid Naymet in it's bed.  "Only but a year or so."

            "Many things can change in a year."

            "No, a year changes nothing.  Things will always remain… I am still here, still me, as are you.  As is everyone who ever lived."

            "That is not true.  Things change.  Trials will change a person.  Death of someone cherished will change a person.  Simply growing older will change a person.  Their name remains the same, possibly their face, but nothing more."

            "Are you to say that I am not who I once was?"

            Addrynnyn looked at her seriously, wondering how to answer.  "Well, I suppose you are, though maybe not since last year, but since… since before I met you."

            Zerameth looked to the ground.  "You have not changed me."

            "I was not saying that, though I think I may have.  I was talking about maybe some sort of even that happened that would have changed you.  The Zerameth that I met – the one I love – is the changed Zerameth.  Maybe I would not love the old you.  Maybe."

            Zerameth could not help but think of Yrinvan at this time, though she spoke not of him.  Addrynnyn did not know of him, though his talking now seemed as if he _did know of something that had changed her, which was most likely Yrinvan's death.  She wondered now, was she really the same as she was before he died?  She seemed the same, but yet she wondered if a person could survive a thing as that and still remain the same.  If she had changed, then how?  What was so very different about her?_

            "How do you know so much of me that is unspoken?" she asked quietly.  Addrynnyn lifted her chin with his hand to look into her eyes.

            "Your eyes told me," he replied.  "You need not say more should you choose not to, for I do not need to know.  If I did, you would have told me already.  Though, I am not condemning your telling me, should you wish.  I want only for you to be happy."

            "Maybe, someday, I shall tell you," she answered.  Her face neared his and their lips brushed against each other gently, then Addrynnyn took her in his arms and they shared a more passionate one.  After he released her, they smiled at each other and started back into the castle.  Zerameth could not stop thinking about how she might have changed.  Was it so simple as maturing?  For she knew that now, at nineteen, she was more mature than when she was only fourteen, the age when Yrinvan had passed away.  She was smarter, and a better swordsman, but she knew that skill was not something that Addrynnyn had meant changed.  While it did change, he had been speaking of the deeper, more emotional things such as personality, or views on large things such as the meaning of life, or even political values.  Something must have changed inside of her.  Something.  Maybe, should she have told him about it, he would have helped her find what piece of herself was different now, but she did not want to speak of Yrinvan to him.  She would have to speak to Laesien about it that night.__


	4. Love

            Laesien ran the brush through Zerameth's black hair for the 63rd time.  "How did your day go along?" she asked gently.

            Zerameth smiled a bit.  "It was fine.  And yours?"

            Laesien shook her head.  "Prince Tellyn is excruciating."

            "What did he do?"

            Laesien knew that she could never tell her elder sister of her and Tellyn's pact, so she did not tell her anything specific.  Laesien had a great conscience, and she would not be able to bear flat-out lying.  "He has been his self."

            Zerameth smiled a bit.  "Yes, I can understand how that would be a problem.  Sister, might I ask you something?"

            "Anything."

            "Have I changed, since… since Yrinvan?  You know me as well as anyone else in Middle-Earth, so I think that if I do not know something about myself, maybe you will.  Maybe you know me better than _I do."_

            Laesien shook her head.  "I doubt that.  However, I do think you may have changed a bit."

            "Go on."

            "Well, you were quite a bit more of a boy back when we were younger.  You were more aggressive, and violent, and positively refused to wear a dress on every occasion.  You've grown up and accepted things, though I think, should you have a choice, that you would still rather be a man.  You are more quiet, more… settled.  You have learned to deal with what is."

            "Do you suppose that the death of a close friend would teach me to accept things?"

            Laesien nodded.  "Yes, I suppose it would."  She gave her sister's hair two more strokes to complete 100 and placed the brush in her sister's soft, pale hands and turned so that she may have her hair brushed as well.

            "I am worried about Ohtar.  Do you think he is handsome?"

            Laesien smiled.  "He would be by now, would he not?"

            "He was when we were younger.  He could not have changed much, being an Elf and all.  Do you think he remembers me?"

            "Undoubtedly.  Elves have keen memories… and besides, it was merely five years ago."

            "Will something happen between Addrynnyn and I?  I desperately hope not."

            "I am not a fortune teller, sister, and I could not tell you if anything were to happen.  Perhaps you should tell Prince Addrynnyn of Ohtar, and Yrinvan, too, while you are telling him of your past."

            "I doubt that I would have the courage to do that."

            "Courage is something that you have never been short on."

            Zerameth smiled.  "15," she counted aloud so that Laesien would know where she was as far as the strokes went.  "Love is confusing."

            "I would not know."

            Zerameth smiled.  "Your time will come.  I thought… I thought that I needed to choose between Yrinvan and Ohtar, and that one of them was the one for me.  After Yrinvan died, I was sure that Ohtar was meant for me, but then we parted and I was not so sure.  If it was fate, then why would it separate us?  So, he was not, and then I fell in love with Addrynnyn.  So why does my stomach twist and turn when I think of seeing Ohtar again?  I certainly do not love him anymore, do I?  Or did I even love him in the first place… or do I really love Addrynnyn?"

            "Are you asking me, or thinking aloud?" Laesien asked.  "If you are addressing me, I could not tell you the answers."

            "I am not sure if I am thinking or asking.  I do not even know the words I speak.  I confuse myself.  30."

            There was a knock on the door and Lady Arwen peeked in.  "Girls?  Goodnight."

            "Sleep well, mother," Zerameth said.

            "Mirkwood may be early," she reported, stepping in.  "They may get here late tomorrow night."

            "Is Lord Legolas going to come?" Zerameth asked conversationally.

            Arwen's eyes glowed as she answered, "I think so."

            "Are you nervous, mother?"

            Arwen looked in surprise at the older of her two daughters.  "Why, no actually.  Merely excited.  Why would I be nervous?"

            "Well, did you ever love him?"

            A great smile appeared on Arwen's face as she laughed out loud.  "I thought I did one time, yes.  Later, I realized that it was no more than a close friendship mixed in with a physical attraction that made me think that way.  Then, years after, I met and fell in love with your father."

            "How do you know when you are in love?  I have had three young men now that I thought I was in love with, and now… now I cannot be sure."

            "If you are not sure, then none of them are love.  When you are in love, you will know it.  Be clear, however, sometimes falling in love the moment you see the person is not how it works.  I needed to get to know Aragorn before I knew I loved him… we even shared a few kisses before I actually truly _loved_ him.  Maybe one of these young men is the intended for you, but just not yet.  Never rule anyone out, and trust your heart."

            "Should I love someone other than Addrynnyn, what then?"

            Arwen's smile evaporated and she looked at her child seriously, trying to decide what to say.  It was too late to fall in love with anyone else… Zerameth had been promised to Addrynnyn for five years now, and would be wed in one more year.  Though, Arwen could not deny her daughter love… she would not be able to force her child to marry someone that she did not love when she knew she loved someone else.  Yet… she _had_ to marry Addrynnyn.

            "Go to sleep," Arwen told her.  "Finish your sister's hair, then go to sleep."

            "But mother-"

            "Everything works out for the greater good," Arwen said.  "Now, I am tired.  I shall see you both in the morning."  She kissed both of them on the forehead and traded goodnights with them once again, then left.

            "Well!  I suppose I must love Addrynnyn," Zerameth mumbled.

            "Would you be so opposed to marrying him?" Laesien asked.  "Your marriage cannot be worse than mine to Tellyn."

            "No, I could see myself being quite happy with Addrynnyn.  However, should I love someone else… I am not sure I could do something such as that."

            "You shall put your feelings into place soon enough.  It should not be a challenge for someone such as you."

            Zerameth smiled.  "You are the scholar in the family, Laesien.  I wish you could help me."

            "Sometimes we must learn things by ourselves.  Though lonely, a lesson learned would not be truly learned should it not be experienced."

            "You are right."


	5. Ohtar Again

            The next day passed quickly and without event.  Zerameth greatly dreaded the coming of Ohtar that night, but she tried not to show it to Addrynnyn, or anyone else, for that matter.  She decided that she would stay up late that night until Mirkwood arrived.  She and the servants would be the only ones awake, but she did not mind.  She planned to study, and should she get bored she could always wake up Laesien.  She felt as if she must be the first one to speak to Ohtar, and not only that, but she also was quite eager to see him in order to discover if she still held feelings for him or not.  As a third reason, she was also quite curious at what he now looked and acted like.  She knew that since he was an elf he could not have changed much over 5 years, but she still wanted to see for herself, as if she did not quite trust that he was a true elf.

            It was a full1 ½ counts past midnight (A/N: my way of saying 1:30AM) when, as she was just nodding off to sleep, Zerameth heard horses outside.  She stood up out of her chair in her room and looked out of the window, and saw near 10 elves getting off of their horses and leaving them to her father's servants' care.  She was unable to tell which one was Ohtar, for it was dark, but she knew that he was amongst them.  Excited and smiling, she quickly dashed out of her room, down the stairs, through the halls, and out the door.  She ran outside, then slowed her pace and changed her expression to look significantly calmer as she approached the elves.  One of them approached her.  He looked familiar, and Zerameth decided that this must be Ohtar.

            He, obviously, did not recognize her as she did.  "Where are we to rest?" he asked her, taking on a superior tone.  "Excuse my eagerness, but each of us is weary, for we traveled with great speed and haste."

            "Ohtar?"

            "H-how did you…"  He looked into her eyes and recognized their gleam at once, and he smiled.  "Zerameth!  Forgive me; I did not recognize you!  What are you doing awake at this hour?"

            "I have been waiting for you," she replied.  "I could not wait to see you again.  How have you been?"

            "Quite well, thank you.  You have grown so…"

            "Yes, but you look much the same."

            "I may look it, but I have changed.  My father has had quite the effect on me."

            "Oh, have you made amends?"

            Ohtar nodded.  "Yes, we have.  He still at times will forget us, and I will still get angry with him, but we are much better than we were last we met."

            "I am glad.  Is he here?"

            "No, not now.  He stayed back with the other elves.  We-" Ohtar motioned to his party, "sped up, for we are young and eager.  The ones who wanted to have their horses remain at a steady walk should arrive by sun up."

            "My mother greatly wishes to see him."

            "I can imagine.  He feels the same."

            "Excuse me, you are tired."  Zerameth began walking back inside and Ohtar walked beside her.

            "You are betrothed now, I hear?" Ohtar asked.

            "Yes, it is Addrynnyn."

            "What do you think of him?"

            "I think that he will make a fine husband.  What of you, do you have a beautiful elf-maiden waiting for you in Mirkwood?"

            Ohtar shook his head.  "No.  She is here."

            "Oh!  Has she come with you, or is she with your father?"

            "She is back with him."  He smiled mischievously.  "She has not the greatest sense of adventure."

            Zerameth laughed.  "Why, how fast did you force the horses to run?"

            "I knew not that they were able to go as fast as we went, that is all I shall say of it."

            "I am disappointed, Prince Ohtar.  You told me that you had changed, but you seem much the same."  That was true, but Zerameth was not so sure if it was a good thing.  The old had been the one that she thought she fell in love with.  Should he return, then conflict would arise.

            "Perhaps I have not changed so awfully much, but it has happened.  You shall see it eventually."

            "I suppose I shall."  Zerameth turned and looked at the party of elves that were following them.  "How many are here right now?"

            "8. None of us need much rest; we need merely 8 comfortable chairs, and we shall all be satisfied."

            "I know not where my parents intended to place you all."

            "Do you not have a sitting room?"

            Zerameth smiled a small bit.  "Yes, we do, but I should feel guilty leaving you all without beds."

            "Nonsense.  We are elves."

            Zerameth nodded.  They were, indeed, elves.  Was that why she had loved Ohtar so?  Because of his race?  She had always been fascinated with elves, that was for sure.  She remembered her mother telling her that her "love" with Legolas was no more than a friendship mixed in with a physical attraction.  Perhaps Zerameth's "love" for his son was just that: friendship, along with her love for elves in general, created a butterfly effect in her stomach five years ago, and that was all.  There was nothing more to it.  She tried to comfort herself by saying that, and telling herself that nothing was to happen between them now that she had found it out, but her bad feeling would not go away.

            Zerameth's feelings were rarely wrong.


	6. Breakfast

            Sunlight peered into the young princess's room and her tired eyes opened.  "Good morning, Lady Zerameth," her attendant said to her.  "Breakfast is served in half of an hour.  The elves are here, and your mother wishes you to meet them before then, so you must dress yourself quickly."

            Zerameth rubbed her eyes and yawned.  She had not gotten to sleep until very late last night, and in turn received two hours of rest, as opposed to her usual nine or ten.  "I am very tired, Geaven," she returned.  "Would you tell my mother that I will not be attending breakfast this morning?"

            Geaven looked at her master apologetically.  "I am sorry, my lady, but there are guests here and your mother wishes you to be acquainted with them, and then dine with them.  You must get up."

            Zerameth sighed and placed all of her energy into sitting up in her bed.  She succeeded, and once that was done, she was able to stand without much trouble.  Geaven left after wishing her good day, and then she changed out of her nightgown and into one of her many dresses.  She had always hated almost all of her dresses, because they were heavy and hot, and they made her feel as if she was nothing but a woman on display.  They were too bright and intricate for her tastes; she would much rather go to dine in the pants that she used to ware when she was younger… the brown ones, made of skin from an animal that she had never learned the name of, and carried dirt with them and easily torn.  Those pants did not demand attention like many of the dresses she owned, and nor did they make her sweat from the waist-down.  Arwen had focused intently on making Zerameth a pure lady since after the Salerna Laut, and had at least succeeded in getting her daughter used to dresses, though she still detested them.

            After she was changed, Zerameth came out of her room for Geaven to wash her face and place the smallest bit of touch-ups on it, do her hair, and other such grooming things that the princess had to go through each morning.  Once finished, Geaven sent her off to the table where Zerameth took her place between her sister and her betrothed, and somewhat across from Ohtar.

            "So pleased you decided to join us," Arwen stated to her daughter.

            _Did I have a choice? Zerameth wanted to ask.  Instead, she replied with a tight smile and said nothing.  She had learned long ago that she could not be herself at a table filled with people… especially not a table filled with people that they did not know._

            "I do apologize," Legolas said to Arwen and Aragorn.  "It seems as if I brought all of Mirkwood with me, though I did not mean to."

            "Do not be absurd," Arwen replied.  "We are glad to have them.  'Tis not often that we have such a company join us, and the more the merrier."

            "Ohtar, would you introduce us to the beautiful maiden sitting next to you?" Aragorn asked.  Ohtar smiled, and his assumed betrothed blushed slightly, though it was hard to see, as her skin was dark.

            "Excuse me," Ohtar said.  "This is my betrothed, Elaviel of Mirkwood."  Zerameth, and the rest of the humans, noted that he did not say that she was a princess, and that she was from Mirkwood as he was.  Though each of them was curious, it would be impolite to ask for an explanation at so formal of an event if the explanation was not plainly offered.  Zerameth, however, vowed to herself that she would ask him of it at a later time.

            Elaviel was very beautiful, indeed.  She had bronze skin to match her bronze hair and narrow, bronze eyes.  She never spoke at all during the entire breakfast, but she assured anyone that looked at her that she had a soft, humble voice.  This was obvious because of her shy appearance and her lack of expression, though somehow she managed not to seem apathetic.  It was near impossible to tell what she was thinking, because her face was neither happy nor sad, neither unprovoked nor irritated.  She was simply neutral, which was why it was so fitting that she was bronze all over.

            Zerameth was fascinated with this girl, for reasons not entirely known to her.  Maybe it was because she was not a princess and from Ohtar's own kingdom, and that there was a bit of mystery to her story.  Maybe it was because of her auburn skin… for Zerameth had never seen anyone so dark before.  Most of royalty was a pale white, but even the servants and attendants who worked in the sun were not nearly as tan as she was.  Or maybe… maybe there was another reason why this woman was so hypnotizing, at least to the mortal princess.  For whatever reason, Zerameth had a hard time peeling her eyes away from Elaviel during the entire meal.

            Addrynnyn took Zerameth's hand, which at first startled her.  She looked at him to see him smile, and she returned it.  Inside she wondered if he was competing with Ohtar, sort of claiming her as his own so that the elven prince would know.  Then, she assured herself that she was only being paranoid, for Addrynnyn knew nothing of Ohtar.  Even if he had, he now knew that Ohtar was betrothed in any case.

            Soon, the food was brought out by as many servants, maybe more, as there were guests.  There were fourteen elven visitors in all, and in addition to them were the mortals: Arwen and Aragorn, Addrynnyn, both of his parents, Tellyn, Zerameth, and Laesien.  As Arwen had said: the more, the merrier.

            Merry they were.  The elves were good company, as they were wise, kind, and yet comical, and therefore made marvelous company.  The conversation was kept light, and the meal lasted for a long time, though they did not overly eat.  The majority of the meal was simply talk, though food did enter mouths during the change of subjects.  Nearly everything that one could think of was at least mentioned.  They spoke of music and art, politics, wedding arrangements, sports, and shared stories along the way.

            When at last the meal came to a close, Aragorn and Arwen were the first to leave, being the King and Queen of the hosting home, and then Addrynnyn's parents followed.  After they were gone, the rest of them were free to leave as they wished.  Zerameth led Addrynnyn to Elaviel and Ohtar, insisting that they speak with them, so he consented.

            "Ohtar," Zerameth said.  "I have not officially introduced you to my betrothed.  This is Prince Addrynnyn of Eriador, soon to be Lord Addrynnyn of Gondor."

            "I have heard wonderful things of you, Prince Addrynnyn," Ohtar said politely.  "You are said to be one of the best mortal archers.  I look forward to competing with you."

            Though Addrynnyn was polite, Zerameth could see that he didn't seem to take to Ohtar.  He responded, "Yes, and your father is the renowned Lord Legolas.  I suspect he has taught you a few tricks?"

            Ohtar smiled and nodded.  "Yes, a few, but I do not receive most of my training from him, but my trainer, Nónd.  How did you fair against Prince Legil-Galad?"

            Though a bit embarrassed at his loss, Addrynnyn could not lie, so he replied, "He had defeated me by two points."

            "I wish I could have seen it, or I would never believe it."

            "Thank you."

            Ohtar noticed Zerameth's curious gaze at his betrothed, and said, "She does not speak much, and cannot understand the Common Tongue well."

            Zerameth looked at him in surprise.  She had always thought that everyone in Middle-Earth spoke the Common Tongue fluently, and if not then at least close to fluently.  "She does not?"

            Ohtar shook his head.  "No, but if you wish to speak with her you can do so slowly, and she will respond if you tell her that you wish her to."

            "Hello," Zerameth said to Elaviel.  She continued slowly as Ohtar had instructed.  "I am Lady Zerameth of Gondor.  I am friends with Ohtar, and it is a pleasure to meet his betrothed."

            "Thank you," Elaviel replied, equally slow.  Her voice was like that of a dove: quiet, gentle, and soothing.  Ohtar smiled at Zerameth.

            "Ask her a question," he told her.

            "Do you like sports?"  Zerameth continued to speak little by little.

            "N-no," Elaviel replied.  "Ohtar forced me to come."

            Ohtar laughed.  " 'Tis true.  She is not very fond of archery or swordsplay or any of that sort.  She would have nothing to do with it if not for me."

            "I hope to see you often," Zerameth told Elaviel.  Then she smiled and turned back to Ohtar.  "You be kind to her," she said, in almost a scolding manner.  "I shall see you as well."

            Ohtar nodded.  "Goodbye, Zerameth.  Addrynnyn, it was an honor to meet you."

            "As you," Addrynnyn replied.  Then he escorted Zerameth away.


	7. The Letter

A/N: This letter is in italics because this is how it reads after it is translated.  It's originally written in Quenya.

                        _ AUTOTEXTLIST __My dear mother,_____

_            Much has changed since I have last written you.  I cannot tell how long it has been, but I know that plenty of things have passed.  I am now engaged to Prince Ohtar of Mirkwood, son of the famous Lord Legolas, who was one of the Fellowship in the War of the Ring.  I shall be part of a line that will be respected and honored for more years than any elf has lived or dreamed of living, and for that I am grateful.  I am to be a Queen, with a handsome King at my side forever, and rule a powerful elven kingdom.  I know that you would be proud of me.  I do not love Ohtar, so I am considering backing out of our marriage, but he is good to me and I should feel almost guilty if I had not a good reason.  And though I do not love him, I do not hate him, and as I said, he treats me well._

_            I dream of seeing you, mother.  In my dreams you are as perfect as you always were, though I sometimes fear that you are not that way anymore.  Sometimes I wonder if you have scars on your back, and your proud face is humbled and beaten.  I hope they are treating you well.  Shall I tell you of my life after we were separated?  I imagine you should want to know._

_            My masters were not kind to me, but I can imagine a much worse life than the one they gave me.  They were kinder than the three that you and I served under together, I suppose.  If I made a mistake, they would strike me only five times, unless the crime was so terrible that it demanded more, such as when I did not awake in time to prepare breakfast.  I was hit fifteen times for that, which a strong wooden bar much like the one that you and I were used to together.  They did give me grace when they felt like they should, such as when I spoke in company's presence.  The head of the house, after the guest was gone, took me aside and talked sternly to me but did not yell, and I was hit only once.  I suppose my punishment was partially decided on what mood they were in, as well as what I had done.  So you see, as I said, my masters could have been much worse._

_            One day I was sold to the King in Mirkwood as an attendant for the horses.  'Twas not a fowl job at all, because I loved the horses deeply.  I would hum to them as I brushed them and told them stories about different things… sometimes I made the stories up as fairy-tale, and sometimes they were stories that you told me each night before I went to bed.  One day the prince (this is Prince Ohtar, to whom I am betrothed) saw me and asked me of my name.  I shall never forget this.  I replied to him, and he asked me how long I had been serving under his father, and I answered accordingly.  We spoke for a bit, when he finally told me that I may speak freely to him, and not be so formal.  So I told him of my past, and I told him of you, and he seemed very interested.  One day he asked me to marry him, and I felt as if it wasn't my place to refuse, so I agreed.  I do not know if he asked out of pity, or if he felt that he loved me, or if he had another reason.  He made sure things were all right with his father, and that is how it happened._

_            I was instantly showered with dresses and jewelry and attendants and large meals the moment I officially became his betrothed. I began lessons to learn to read, write, and speak the Common Tongue.   I had never experienced anything like it.  Mother, you have never known what it feels like to have people wait on you.  Your every wish granted, like you are Illúvatar himself!  I felt like a Queen already, or even higher than a Queen.  _The_ Queen, of all Middle-Earth.__  I have never had anyone show me such kindness… and now I am not only speaking of Ohtar (though it is true for him as well), but all of the elves that I interact with.  The attendants, the King and Queen, the elves that I meet, everyone.  I feel as if I am as famous as Frodo Baggins himself, the Savior of Middle-Earth.  Never worry about me, mother, for I am doing just fine, be assured._

_            And now I am in Gondor, at the house of Lady Arwen and Lord Aragorn for an archery competition between the Elves of Mirkwood, as well as the mortal Prince Addrynnyn of Eriador.  I was introduced to Addrynnyn and his betrothed, Lady Arwen and Lord Aragorn's eldest daughter, Lady Zerameth.  She told me (in the Common Tongue, which I understood) that she is friends with Ohtar.  She seemed very nice, though I noticed that she was looking at me nearly the entire time during breakfast, and this disturbed me and made me uncomfortable.  I wonder if she suspects that I am nothing but a slave at heart.  I wonder if she judged me by my dark skin, and my inability to understand all those talking around me, for I have learned that elven royalty speak the Common Tongue much more than elven slaves.  I am not yet able to distinguish when I am supposed to speak elvish and when I'm to use the Mortal's language, but I suppose it does not matter yet, seeing as I cannot speak it well anyway.  Everyone speaks elvish to me, except for my Common Tongue instructor (who bothers me occasionally, with his tendency to push me farther than I wish to go) who insists that the best way to learn it is not to only study it, but practice speaking it and understanding.  He would be proud of me should he have seen my interaction with Zerameth._

_            I do not like the Common Tongue.  It is clumsy and horrid and ugly.  If you were here, I could say a few words to you and you should agree with me.  I wonder why it is that the slaves speak the more beautiful language, and the royalty speak the uglier of the two.  As I said before, I have not yet learned when it is "proper" for royalty to use elvish or not.  They seem to switch almost whenever they wish.  Politics is usually in the Common Tongue, and I think that is because the people that they are dealing with can then understand them, should they not be elves.  But other than that, there seems to be no logical pattern as to when they speak what.  This worries me, because if I am to be a Queen I should need to be fluent in both, and the Common Tongue is so very difficult to learn.  They have millions of grammerical rules, and in half of the cases these rules do not apply, because there are so very many exceptions.  I have come to the conclusion that the Man who created this language changed his mind much._

_            Now, mother, I must leave.  Ohtar is asking for me.  I shall plead for your freedom, and then you will come to live in the palace with me.  Until then, I shall think of you when I am awake and when I sleep.  I love you._

_                        ~Elaviel _


End file.
